Hogan's Heroes: The Perfect Christmas Present
by Basketballgirl Kaitlin
Summary: It's Christmas time at Stalag 13, and none of the guys have an idea on what to get Colonel Hogan for a Christmas present. As they try to think of what they should each get their commander for the holiday season, Schultz has Kalina help him think of a present for Klink.


It was that time of year again. Snow was falling every other day, prisoners were spending more time in their barracks, and Schultz was threatened to march in much heavier snowfall if he continued to sleep or slack off while being on duty. Christmas at Stalag 13 was right around the corner, and as always the guys of barracks two were preparing for the holidays. Stockings with Newkirk's, Carter's, Kinch's, LeBeau's, and Hogan's hung above the technical sergeant's bunk bed, presents were wrapped in pretty paper, and Kalina had managed to somehow convince her father into letting the boys have a Christmas tree inside the barracks. The beautiful tree of pine stood beside the stove decorated in colorful lights and silver tinsel with the presents sitting beneath it. It truly felt like Christmas this year.

As the snow continued to fall outside, Carter sat at the table wrapping a present he had made for Baker while LeBeau stood at the stove making cookie dough for Christmas sugar cookies. Kinch was below checking if there was anything from London or the underground, Newkirk was outside with Olsen and a few men from barracks five having the biggest snowball fight ever, and Hogan was in his room relaxing with a good book since the holiday season brought in less business than the rest of the year.

Carter sniffed the air as the aroma of fresh baked cookies filled the room.

"Mmmmmm," he moaned. "Hey Louis, those smell really good. I've never smelled sugar cookies that good before in my entire life."

"That is my mother's secret family recipe you smell. She is _un génie_ in the kitchen." LeBeau replied, taking much pride in his baking. He actually loved baking a bit more than cooking, but he had not gotten to do it often since being taken hostage by the Germans. He made apple strudel all the time for Schultz, but he missed the other pastries and nummy desserts he had constantly made. Brownies, macaroons, cookies, pies, cakes, he could do it all. If there was one thing he loved more than his Paris and girls, it was baking.

"Hey, can I lick the frosting off the spoon you got over there?" Carter asked.

LeBeau turned to look behind him briefly, then back at the young sergeant and gave in. It was the holidays after all.

"Alright André, but don't tell Schultz if he walks in here," he answered, walking over to Carter and handing him the spoon.

"Oh, you got it, buddy!" Carter replied, and began to lick the cream cheese frosting from the spoon while grinning from ear to ear.

As LeBeau went back to cooking, the door to the barracks opened, and Newkirk walked in with Olsen busting their sides laughing about something.

"Boy, did yah see the look on Nelson's face when you jumped out behind that staff car?" The Englishman cried.

"He looked more scared than Klink when under Hochstetter's stare!" Olsen remarked.

The two again laughed loudly and were holding their sides to prevent themselves from collapsing to the ground. They were brought out of it when the fake bunk opened, and Kinch appeared from below. The leading sergeant closed the entrance to the tunnels and made his way over to the group with a raised eyebrow.

"What's going on here? You two are laughing like two teenagers in high school after putting a dead rat in the teacher's desk," he said.

"Yah should've _seen_ it, Kinch! Olsen and I beat those blokes from barracks two like taking candy from a baby," Newkirk answered.

Kinch cocked his head to the side and looked at him disapprovingly.

"Newkirk, what did I tell you about pick-pocketing other people's chocolate bars from their pockets?" He asked, in a father like tone.

"Figure of speech, mate," Newkirk said, with a smile.

"Uh huh. _Sure_ it is," the sergeant answered teasingly.

As the group of men were about to start a new topic of discussion, the door to the barracks again opened, but Klink's daughter, Kalina, entered inside this time. She was carrying a blanket in her arms with the colors of red, white, and blue on it.

"Hey guys," she began. "Do you have any wrapping paper lying around that I can borrow? I used all of mine on the gifts I got Papa."

"Sure thing, buddy," Carter said, handing her his roll. "What 'cha gonna wrap with it?"

"My present for Colonel Hogan. I sure hope he likes it. I spent days knitting it for him," Kalina answered, a slight tremor to her voice.

"Is that what you're carrying there?" Olsen asked.

"Yeah, you guys tell me what you think," she said. Kalina unfolded the blanket and pulled it open to reveal the beautiful image of the American flag. It was flawless and not a single error in her handy work could be seen. It looked almost exactly like the real thing, making the five men all gaze in amazement.

"Holy cats!" Olsen cried.

"You _made_ that?!" Newkirk gasped.

" _C'est incroyable_ ," LeBeau said, completely breath-taken.

Klink's daughter hung her head and blushed while smiling small.

"Yeah," she answered. She frowned again and looked up at all of them with worried eyes. "You think he'll like it?"

"Kid, he's gonna _love_ it. Might even wrap it around his shoulders from now on during morning roll call," Kinch said, with a grin. It got a little giggle out of the small teenager.

"Wait a minute," Carter exclaimed. "I got a present for everyone else except for Colonel Hogan!"

The whole room fell silent as all five men exchanged looks. Oh no, they all thought. _None_ of them had a present for their commanding officer. After everything Hogan had ever done for them and what he did for them on a daily basis, they all had somehow forgotten to get him a Christmas present. And how would that be fair to the colonel himself? Watching everyone on Christmas day opening their presents from several different people, and Hogan would only have one to open.

"Does _anyone_ have a present for Colonel Hogan besides Kalina?" Kinch asked, hoping he was the only other one for the exception of the demolitions expert.

"Uh…" Olsen began.

"I haven't exactly decided on…" Newkirk chimed in.

"No," LeBeau said, for everybody.

"How did we forget about Colonel Hogan?" Olsen asked, both shocked and ashamed of themselves.

"We all gotta get him _something_!" Carter remarked.

"And what the bloody hell do we each get 'em, huh? We don't even know what he wants," Newkirk answered, gruff. He pulled out a cigarette from his blue trench coat and smoked his stress regarding the situation away.

Kalina finished tying an elegant white bow on Hogan's present, put it gently under the tree, and smiled with pride.

"There," she said. "Perfect!"

"What do _you_ think we should each get Colonel Hogan, _ma petite ami_?" LeBeau asked.

The girl pursed her lips and put her fists over her hips. She thought long and hard about it, when the barracks door opened for the third time. This time it was a frantic and flustered Schultz.

"Kalina," he began. "Oh Kalina, you have to help me, Kalina. I don't know what to get the Kommandant for a Christmas present!"

"Get him a pair of earmuffs. It'll come in handy if he's ever transferred to a colder climate," the English corporal suggested. It earned a glare back from both Kalina and Schultz.

"Newkirk, you shouldn't say such things about the Kommandant!" The sergeant spat back.

"What about a new paper weight? Always could have one of them lying around." Olsen replied.

"What kind of gift is a paper weight? That's almost like buying someone a flashlight without the batteries in it," Klink's daughter answered, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"Well damn. Looks like I won't be getting Colonel that then, will I," the sergeant said, snapping his fingers.

"I got it!" Carter cried, shooting up to his feet.

"You know what I should get the Kommandant?" Schultz asked, a bright smile showing from ear to ear.

"No, I figured out how I'm gonna persuade Klink into allowing me to shoot off fireworks on New Years!"

"Oh, don't do that. You had me all excited and...Carter, where are you getting fireworks from? Surely Kommandant Klink will not let you go into town and buy...no. Forget it. I hear nooothing. I see _noooooothing_!" Quickly wrapping his arm around Kalina's shoulder, the fluffy sergeant and her exited out of the barracks with the door softly closing from behind them. The minute they were out of sight, the boys all turned back to facing one another and began to think of gifts they could all get for Hogan.

"I still say he should get Klink the paper weight." Olsen grumbled.

"Forget it," Newkirk remarked, agitated.

"I wonder if I could get him a girl from the underground to go out with on a romantic dinner date," LeBeau wondered, talking to particularly no one.

"Yah wanna return whatever's jingling around inside that box for me below the tree and get me one as well?" Newkirk asked, taking another drag on his cigarette.

"You mean you shook it?!" The Frenchman exclaimed.

"Bloody hell I shook it. Yah think I'm gonna wait till Christmas morning to figure out what might be in there? Besides...I can't figure out what the bloomin' thing is anyways."

"Well, all I know is that has to outrun Kinch's drum set he got Colonel Hogan last year. He can't give him the best present two years in a row," Olsen said.

"Stewart, _no one_ can outdo my drum set. Unless you can somehow bring Benny Goodman to personally come here and give him a private jazz lesson," the radioman answered, crossing his arms.

"You think London could get me his number?"

Kinch shook his head, and the room became dead silent. Everyone was too lost in their own thoughts about what to get Hogan for Christmas. What did he want? What supply was he low on that needed to be replaced? Did he want anything specifically in general? Each of them were trying to find the million dollar answer to each question.

As all five of them continued to figure out what to get their commander, the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and the colonel himself emerged into the living area. He walked to the stove to pour himself a cup of coffee, then took a sip of his beverage as he realized all of his men were quiet. _Very_ quiet. And it was refreshing and paranormal at the same time. His eyes went from one man to the next until he came back to the one he started with.

"What's going on out here?" Hogan asked cautiously.

"We're trying to figure out what to get people for a present. So far the only thing we've come up with is a paper weight and a date with a girl from the underground." Kinch clarified.

"Hey Colonel," Carter began, folding his arms in front of him on the table. "If you were gonna get a friend a Christmas present, what would you get them?"

"Well, that all depended on the friend. What's he like?" Hogan questioned, leaning against the stove and crossing his leg over the other.

"He's tall. About your height. He likes jazz music, the drums, reading, and sports, oh! And he's an officer in the Air Force, too."

The colonel cocked his head to the side and gave his young sergeant a soft glare.

"Let me guess; is your friend's name Robert Edward Hogan?" He remarked.

As Carter was about to answer, he fell silent and hung his head a bit.

"Nooooo," he answered, hoping his commander would forget about his slip up. Hogan ended up silently chuckling and shaking his head in response.

"Come on, Colonel. Lay it on us. What do you want for a present?" Kinch prodded.

"How about a new pair of shoes?" Newkirk suggested.

"You want one of those styrofoam airplanes you can fly around camp, Sir?" Olsen asked.

"What about a two week vacation getaway to _Paris_? They have _très belle_ women there." LeBeau added.

Hogan smirked in response.

"Trying to get rid of me so you can throw that crazy party you wanna throw? The one with all the champagne, music, and this so called mechanic bull you're gonna convince Schultz in renting?" He replied.

" _Party_! _What_ party?" The Frenchman remarked, while turning to the four men across the room with a look that read 'which one of you croaked'?

The American officer chuckled before speaking again.

"LeBeau, I don't need anything for Christmas," he frowned and let out a sad sigh. "I'd sure like to find someone who can fix my drumsticks, though. I miss playing my jazz songs."

"I said I was sorry," Newkirk remarked, a tint of guilt filling his voice. He remembered that day all too well. It had only been a few weeks ago. Hogan had been playing along to a few jazz records in his room. He had left to go take a shower when the Englishman and Carter had to go inside his room to find a specific map for their then assigned mission. Oblivious to their colonel's drumsticks lying there, Newkirk plopped down into Hogan's chair to search when they both heard a loud 'snap'. Newkirk got up from the chair and saw both drumsticks completely broke in half. Carter tried his best to fix them, but they just would not hold together anymore. They were ruined, and there was not a single thing they could do about it.

"And you've been forgiven for it," Hogan answered. "I still miss them, though." He turned to looked down at his watch and exhaled deeply. "Well, I better go start looking over those reports Otto brought in the other night. That power plant we're to bomb the day after Christmas isn't gonna detonate itself. LeBeau, come get me when it's dinner time, won't you?"

" _Oui, Colonel_ ," the French corporal answered.

"And enough baking. I'm gaining weight just _smelling_ those cookies." Hogan gave a friendly grin to all of them, then returned to his room and closed the door behind him gently.

"Bleedin' sticks. How the hell was _I_ supposed to know they were lying there?" Newkirk remarked, turning to Kinch.

"I want to know which one of you croaked and told Colonel Hogan about that party I was planning. He'll _never_ leave for a vacation long enough for me to throw it now." LeBeau sneered.

"Talk to the blabbermouth here," Newkirk answered, lighting a new cigarette.

"I didn't say anything! In fact, that was the one thing I _didn't_ blab about to Colonel Hogan." Carter replied back defensively.

"Focus, guys. We _still_ don't know what each of us are gonna get him for a present, and Christmas is three days away," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"Wait a minute," Olsen said, snapping his fingers. "That's it! That's it, I know what I'm gonna get Colonel Hogan for Christmas!"

"What is it?" The technical sergeant asked him.

"I'm not telling anyone. Oh man, is he gonna flip when he opens up my gift on Christmas day!" Olsen hurried outside of the barracks, giddy all over about his brilliant idea. It now left just Carter, LeBeau, Kinch, and Newkirk in the room.

"Come to think of it, I know what I wanna get Colonel Hogan for a present myself. I gotta go radio London and see if they'll do an air drop within the next 48 hours," Kinch said. He headed back for the fake bunk, banged the hidden mechanism, and disappeared beneath the ground.

"Well, that's all bloody charming for them, why can't the three of _us_ think of something to get the Gov'nor?" The Englishman wondered.

" _I_ know what I'm getting Colonel Hogan now. I've just stayed quiet to avoid any confrontation," LeBeau answered, using different cookie cutters to make various shapes out of his sugar cookie dough.

"What are _you_ getting him?"

"Can't say. It's a secret."

"Well _I'm_ certainly stumped on what I should get...wait a minute. No I'm not, I know _exactly_ what to get him! I gotta get to the wood shop building before they close for the night!" Carter proclaimed. He quickly put his present for Baker under the tree and shot out of the barracks without another word. Now it was only Newkirk that remained clueless.

"Blimey, why does this holiday gotta be so bleedin' difficult? Here we are with everyone knowing what to get the Gov'nor for Christmas, and I don't got a bloomin' idea on what to get him." He groaned.

"You could make him something like Kalina did," LeBeau suggested.

"I ain't talented enough to knit Colonel Hogan anything. I just wish something would hit me right in the face and give me an idea already." As if saying the magic words, it hit him. That's it, he thought to himself. The perfect Christmas present for Hogan, and it had been right in front of him the whole time. How had he not thought of it before? "I got it...I know just the thing I'm getting the Gov'nor for Christmas. And it's gonna be so great, the rest of your gifts are gonna look like savings bonds compared to mine."

* * *

"I don't know why it has to be so difficult to think of a present for the Kommandant," Schultz muttered, sitting on the couch in Klink's living room while Kalina handed him a glass of brandy. The poor sergeant had spent the last two hours bouncing possibilities off of his commander's daughter. Sadly, every idea he had come up with was either something Klink disliked or something he would never use. He looked over to his right to where a fake Christmas tree stood in front of the kitchen. Underneath were presents stacked full from Kalina to her father. Big ones, little ones, all of them wrapped in colorful, shiny wrapping paper. The teenager, however, had ten times the amount. Klink always went out of his way on her birthday and Christmas to spoil her rotten. Stuffed animals, new clothes, designer shoes, jewelry, books, music records, she got it all. He always made sure his little girl had the best holiday ever and never asked for anything in return other than to see her smile. This year, she had decided to give back and had been getting an allowance from Langenscheidt once a month for cleaning his quarters till it sparkled and shined. All of the money she earned she had spent on a present for her papa, and she was proud of every single one of them. And there Schultz sat frowning, not having a single clue on what to get Klink.

"Aw Schultz, you don't need to get Papa anything. Just tell him 'Merry Christmas' and give him a big, bold salute like this," Kalina said, snapping straight and tall while giving a sharp salute.

"I must get him _something_ , Kalina. This is the one day of the year I get to show him I actually _like_ him for a commander."

"Or you and the other guards could be nice to him _everyday_."

"What, and not have any fun?"

Kalina silently giggled and shook her head.

"Schultz, why don't you just get him a nice Christmas card and tell him 'thank you' for being your commanding officer. Papa's a simple man. He's not materialistic like other military men can be. Even just a proud salute to him would make his day," she suggested.

"Wait a minute," Schultz said, a twinkle slowly appearing in his eyes. "He's felt awful lonely since he went out on that blind date by the General."

"General Burkhalter really needs to stop setting him up with women."

"I got it. I know _exactly_ what I will get the Kommandant! Oh, it will be _wunderbar_!"

"What is it?"

"They say cats make very nice company, so I will go to the pet store and buy him a kitten."

Klink's daughter slipped into a state of shock, and her eyes widened with horror at the word 'kitten'.

"A kitten?" She croaked. "I don't think that…" The guard cut her off.

"Oh, I will name him after the _Fuhrer_. Kommandant Klink will love it!"

"Schultz, really I, Papa…"

"I have to get to the pet store before they close. Then I will go to the Hofbrau and get a large glass of beer to celebrate! Thank _you, Fraulein Kommandant_!"

He gave her a strong salute and before she could say anything back, Schultz was up and gone. When the door closed, Kalina let out a small whimper.

"Boy, I hope he's grown out of it over the years." She prayed.

* * *

The next 72 hours went fairly quick for everyone in barracks two. Each man was working on getting and wrapping Hogan's Christmas presents. Carter spent almost the entire day in the wood shop building, Kinch was constantly radioing London for updates, Newkirk was working his magic in the black market, and LeBeau and Olsen had resorted to bribing Schultz to go into town and buying their requests. Finally on Christmas Eve night did everyone have their gifts wrapped and under the tree. They were ready to go and filled with excitement. When they went to bed that night, all of them dreamed of what Hogan's reaction would be to their presents and the smile that would beam on his face.

Christmas morning soon came, and Klink had ordered for no roll calls to take place that day. He wanted to spend the morning drinking hot chocolate and opening presents with his daughter, and he was sure the prisoners would be alright with not having a guard barge into their barracks screaming at the top of his lungs to wake up at 6:00AM.

It was about 10:00 when the kommandant made his way into his office. He began his daily paperwork and was pleasantly surprised to see not much needed to be done today. He was beginning his final document, when a knock came on his door. It opened, and Kalina popped her head in while wearing a big smile to her face.

"Merry Christmas, Papa," she said.

Klink returned the same smile, his blue eyes twinkling like stars.

"Merry Christmas, _sußling_ ," he answered.

Kalina walked inside and ran to her father, who stood up and took her into his arms. She was wearing a long sleeved red dress with a white collar, and a new and fluffy handmade white scarf he had bought her for one of her Christmas presents.

The little teenager lay her head against Klink's chest and smiled wider when her father took one of his hands and gently rubbed her head.

"I see you like that scarf I got you," the colonel said.

"It's nice and soft. I think it's my favorite thing you got me this year." Kalina replied, looking up into Klink's eyes.

"I'm glad. I'd do anything to see that smile of yours everyday."

" _You_ make me smile... _Ich liebe dich, Papa_."

" _Ich liebe dich, baby Mädchen_."

Klink gave his daughter a kiss on the head and continued to hold her close, when the door to the office opened again. It was Schultz grinning from one ear to the other.

"Merry Christmas, _Herr Kommandant_ ," he said.

"Merry Christmas, Schultz. I expect you liked your little holiday bonus?"

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_! I will spend it very wisely. _Very_ wisely. Which reminds me. To thank you for the money, I got you a present as well."

The kommandant smirked while blushing slightly, as Kalina shifted uncomfortably in her spot and closed her eyes asking for mercy.

"Schultz, you didn't need to get me anything," he said, flattered.

"I _had_ to, _Herr Kommandant_. Anything for the toughest and most fearsome POW camp kommandant in all of Germany, _Herr Kommandant_ ," the guard answered.

"Well," Klink said, his ego growing. He straightened in position and puffed his chest out slightly. "How can I turn it down when you put it like _that_? Alright Schultz, where is it?"

"Right here, _Herr Kommandant_ ," Schultz said, pulling out a small gray and white kitten from behind his back. It wore a red bow around its neck for a collar.

Seeing what it was, Klink's eyes almost instantaneously dilated in size, and his jaw dropped from its hinges. He looked up at his senior sergeant as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Is that a cat?" He gasped, pointing in its direction.

"I named him after the _Fuhrer_. Say 'hi' to Kommandant Klink, Adolf." Schultz replied, setting the little kitten on the desk. Adolf took a few steps towards the kommandant, looked up at him, and made a small meow.

The closer Adolf got to him, the more Klink's nose began to twitch. He made a few gasps for air before he sneezed. It ceased for a few moments before he sneezed again. And again. And again...and again.

"I told him to get a card," Kalina said meekly, turning her eyes to the ceiling.

"Schultz, you *sneeze*, I can't *sneeze*, I'm a *sneeze*, get it *sneeze, sneeze, sneeze*."

"I told him a hundred times to just get a card." Kalina whimpered, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

The guard stood there briefly befuddled before his own eyes widened. It hit him. Allergic. Klink was allergic to cats. As his commander continued to sneeze uncontrollably, he turned to Kalina who was looking at him helplessly.

"What didn't you tell me the Kommandant was allergic to cats?" He asked.

"I tried," she simply answered, referring to their conversation a few days ago.

Schultz frowned for a few seconds before a light-bulb went off in his head. He looked back at the small teenager again. "Can _I_ keep him?"

Kalina smirked and nodded.

"Sure, Schultz. I gotta get going, though. I'll be late for Christmas with Colonel Hogan and the others," she said. Without another word, Kalina darted for the door and closed it behind her. When she was gone, the fluffy guard looked down at the small kitten, picked him up from the desk, and snuggled him.

"Well," he said. "If I'm keeping you, I'm definitely not going to call you Adolf."

* * *

Like her father, the guys in barracks two had all spoiled Kalina as well. Fancy pens, knitted socks and mittens, piano music, notebooks, perfume, Hogan had even given her a United States Army Air Corps fleece blanket with her name sewn in at the bottom. Then it was the boys' turn to open presents. They all consisted of things from their Red Cross packages, chocolate bars, money, and whatever Newkirk had managed to scrounge up in the black market. As they all sat on the floor opening their gifts and debating whose was better, Hogan sat in front of the stove on a chair smiling at all of them.

Covered up in her new warm blanket and snuggling a stuffed dog Carter had gotten her, Kalina looked up at the American officer and frowned. All of them had opened several gifts from one another, but Hogan had remained the only one not to open any of his gifts. He did not have as many as they did, but the fact was he still had not touched any of them. She frowned and looked at her friends sitting next to her.

"Hey guys, let's set aside the rest of our gifts for a minute. Let Colonel Hogan open a few of his," she said.

Hogan looked down at her and smiled.

"It's alright, hon. You guys keep going without me. You're all so excited about everything," he answered kindly.

"No, you gotta open something with the rest of us. At least open one?" Kalina replied.

Hogan smirked.

"Alright, I'll open a couple. Which one do I unwrap first, though?" He asked, looking at his small pile. Some he could sense what they were, the rest he had no clue on what they could be. They all varied in shape, size, and color. He picked up Kalina's and set it in his lap, making the teenager's shoulders tense up. _Oh no_ , she thought. _I sure hope he likes this. What if he has one already, though_?

The colonel flipped it around a few times to find a card or tag saying who it was from, but he found none. He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrow curiously.

"It doesn't say who this is from," he said, disappointed.

"Hey, that's Kalina's gift she got you," Carter answered, a grin coming across his face.

"Open it, _Colonel_. You'll love it." LeBeau added confidently.

Their commander gave another smirk in response before turning to the package's owner.

"Looks like you're going first, Kalina," he said, untying the white ribbon.

 _What if he hates it? Did I get him the right thing? Oh, why didn't I just get him a stupid pair of socks_ , Kalina continued to think to herself. She took her thumb to her mouth and bit on it as she watched Hogan take off the ribbon and unwrap her present. The minute he had sight of what it was, Hogan's mouth dropped as his eyes widened a little. He pulled the blanket in front of him and was in awe at how much it resembled his homeland's flag. It almost brought tears to his eyes. He turned to Kalina.

"Kalina," he gasped. "Did you _make_ this?"

"Do you hate it?" She replied, meek.

" _Hate_ it; I _love_ it. I'm gonna use it tonight when I go to bed. I love it even more because you made it for me."

The small girl blushed while smiling, then got to her feet and wrapped her arms around the colonel's neck. Her grin grew more when she felt Hogan's warm arms embrace her.

"Merry Christmas, Colonel Hogan," she said, with tranquility.

"Merry Christmas, Kalina," Hogan answered back.

"Oh Colonel," Newkirk cried, holding something behind his back. "Open my present next, Sir!"

"No, I want Colonel Hogan to open _my_ gift first!" Carter argued back, doing the same gesture.

"Colonel Hogan will love _my_ present ten times as much as both of yours." LeBeau commented, copying them as well.

"My gift's pretty darn spectacular if I have a say in anything!" Olsen remarked, holding his gift behind him with one hand.

"Why don't you just all give him your gift at the same time if being first means that much to you," Kinch suggested, tossing a baseball into his new baseball glove.

The group of four all turned to face one another, and Newkirk nodded.

"Alright," he said. "On three, we all take our gifts out from behind our backs."

"One," Olsen said.

"Two," Carter said.

"Three!" LeBeau shouted.

The trio, plus Newkirk, snapped their gifts to the front of them with all of their eyes gaping at the sight. Each of them had a pair of drumsticks tied up with ribbon in different sizes and colors. Carter's were plain, LeBeau's were the colors of the French flag, Newkirk's were a jet black, and Olsen's a deep mahogany color. The initial shock soon wore off, and the arguing soon ensued.

"Okay, which one of you bleedin' blokes were snoopin' around during my meeting with the black market boss?" The Englishman growled.

" _Snooping_! You completely copied my gift for Colonel Hogan!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"You were watching me make these in the wood shop building and decided to outdo me, didn't yah!" Carter cried, pointing accusingly at Olsen.

" _Me_! It was clearly _you_ that was doing the copying. I paid Schultz 75 marks to go into town and buy these for me!" The other sergeant snapped.

"I think all of you were jealous of my brilliant idea and decided to go and copy it so Colonel Hogan would like your drumsticks more than mine," LeBeau said.

"Oh, because you're the victim in this situation, aren't yah." Newkirk sneered.

" _Oui_! I am!"

"These drumsticks weren't meant to just beat drums yah know!"

As the flyers continued yelling at one another, Hogan sat their at first a bit surprised. He was soon trying to fight back from chuckling, but it turned into full blown laughter by the end of it. Hearing their commander's laugh, Newkirk and the others turned to him and furrowed their eyebrows together. None of them understood what was going on at the moment.

"What's so funny?" Olsen was the first to ask.

Once he had it out of his system, Hogan placed a hand over his belly slowly caught his breath and looked at all of them.

"I'm sorry, but all my life I have never had four people get me the same thing at the same time," he answered. "I really appreciate it yet find it hilarious at the same time."

"Didn't you guys tell one another what you were getting for Colonel Hogan _before_ you went out and got all of those?" Kalina questioned, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't want them stealing my idea!" LeBeau remarked defensively.

"Well I knew Newkirk would steal my idea if I told him, so I kept it to myself," Olsen said.

"Excuse me, who was the one to copy my idea of getting Louis that fancy new frying pan for his birthday?" Newkirk asked.

"Oh, just let the whole thing go, guys. It's Christmas after all. Besides; I'm sure Colonel Hogan will use all of them at some point," Kinch said.

Newkirk, Olsen, LeBeau, and Carter all turned to one another and let out a heavy sigh. Kinch was right, and they all knew it. It was Christmas. The one day of the year where there was no fighting, no assignments to do, and everyone was smiling and getting along with one another. It would all go back to normal tomorrow, and they would be fighting the Germans and trying to keep their secret operation from people like Hochstetter all over again.

"You're right, Kinch," Olsen said. "We should be laughing and making jokes instead of arguing over something so silly as all of us getting Colonel the same gift."

"And I will be using _all_ of your drumsticks at some point. I'll even have some backups in case I snap one pair on accident." Hogan added.

"Wait a minute," Newkirk began, turning to the radioman. "Kinch, if yah didn't get the Gov'nor drumsticks like the rest of us, then what _did_ you get him?"

Kinch gave a sly grin to the corporal, then turned his eyes to his commander and nodded.

"Go ahead and open mine, Colonel," he said. "It's the blue wrapping paper with snowflakes on it."

Hogan grabbed the small rectangular box into his lap and began to unwrap his gift. When he saw the black box, he opened the lid, and his face lit up like a little kid about to get candy. He made his eyes upwards to his second in command.

"Kinch, you did not!" He cried.

"I did indeed, Sir," the sergeant answered.

"You got me a pass to go to London?!"

"Get to spend all of New Years with Major Schuerman and your old guys. General Berkman even got you a fancy hotel to stay at. And don't worry about Klink. Kalina and I already have him leaving for Bremen the day before you go. He thinks he won an award for Camp Kommandant of the Year, and Felix is coming to fill in for him while he attends the 'ceremony'." (1)

"Just promise to come back, Colonel Hogan. I'll miss you too much to listen to another Allied officer." Kalina pleaded, wearing a slight frown. She was greeted with a kind smile.

"I will come back, I promise. You think I'd leave you to handle these guys all on your own?" He answered.

The little Klink giggled in response.

Newkirk frowned and tossed his drumsticks behind him. Carter, Olsen, and LeBeau quickly followed suit, and wood hitting the floor could be heard clanging throughout the living area. Kinch had outdone them...again.

* * *

(1) Felix is an underground agent that appears in the episode "One In Every Crowd".


End file.
